The weather is getting unquestionably sunnier and slowly warmer, but that did not keep a widely diverse crowd, in which stood out quite a few clergymen all decked out in impressive garb, from eagerly filling up Carnegie Hall's Stern Auditorium on Saturday night for "The Arvo Pärt Project at St. Vladimir Seminary ", a concert of works by the inimitable Arvo Pärt, the undisputed master of tintinnabulation who, starting from the rather limited sphere of Eastern Orthodox Christian tradition, has reached an extraordinary level of respect AND adoration reserved to very few living composers.
The fact that his selected pieces for the evening would be performed by the ultimate experts of his œuvre- Conductor Tonu Kaljuste, the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir - only added to the growing excitement and elevated already high expectations ever more. So I met up with my friends Dawn and Linden in the packed concert hall for a Saturday night dedicated to that strange beast that is popular spiritual music.

Stepping right onto familiar territory, the audience first got to hear an orchestral version of the popular "Frartres" and right off the bat, we all realized that the artists onstage definitely had what it takes to bring the Pärt's deceptively simple yet deeply poignant music to mesmerizing life. As first violin Harry Traksmann started playing the hypnotic opening and the orchestra surreptitiously joined in, it became very clear that every single note had been carefully considered and fell right into place for a performance that was as precise as it was affecting.
"Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten", the other, even shorter, instrumental work on the program, paid a heart-felt tribute to the English composer with an inspired combination of strings, which achingly expressed the agony of grief, and a sporadically tolling bell, which reminded us all of the implacability of death. Even the audience member who decided he should start clapping right after the last note had been played in order to show how knowledgeable about the piece he was did not manage to spoil the moment.
The much taunted choir finally made its dazzling entrance with the hair-raising opening of "Adam's Lament". Taking the subject of Adam from a text written by Saint Silouan the Athonite, a Russian Orthodox monk from the early 20th century, Pärt magnificently expands on it and successfully reaches out for all of humanity with the universal themes of loss and hope. Although the music is intrinsically linked to the liturgical lyrics, one does not have to be the religious type to appreciate its intricate structure and emotional power, including some devilish pizzicatos, all of which were assuredly and flawlessly handled by musicians and singers under the insightful baton of Tonu Kaljuste.
On a more subdued and less anguished note, "Salve Regina" was a delicately measured medieval prayer to the Virgin Mary, whose elegant simplicity was briefly shaken up by a couple of gripping outbursts before calming down again and ending in a wistful whisper.
The final work of the evening was Pärt's "Te Deum", an austere yet dramatic prayer that transcendentally combines Gregorian and Byzantine traditions while still remaining broadly accessible. Organically unfolding as a meditative journey remarkable for both its humility and its majesty, this "Te Deum" also significantly benefited from the unusual configuration of three choirs, a string orchestra, a piano, and a wind harp, which all miraculously came together under the exacting watch of maestro Kaljuste. Under its seemingly minimalist appearance, the work's structure is complex enough to make it a richly satisfying composition, which concluded the concert with a soothing feeling of restful peace.

The endless ovation started loud, then became delirious when Mr. Pärt himself came on the stage, as humble and inconspicuous as ever. After a while, as there were understandably no encores to be expected, we collectively picked up our jaws from the floor and headed for the exit. As it happened, my last Carnegie Hall concert of the season did not end with a resounding bang, but with the discreet and lingering magical spell of a quiet Estonian visionary's music. And that was so much better.